


Folly's Dance

by athena4lynn



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e01 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Part I, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-24
Updated: 2004-01-24
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena4lynn/pseuds/athena4lynn
Summary: "We dance around each other, CJ, and it's all we can do."





	Folly's Dance

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Folly's Dance**

**by:** Athena

**Character(s):** CJ, Danny  
**Pairing(s):** CJ/Danny  
**Category(s):** Post-Episodes, Romance  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** "We dance around each other, CJ, and it’s all we can do."  


**_CJ’s office, Night (_ post _In The Shadow of Two Gunman - Part 1)_**

"CJ?"

Danny pushed the door open, knocking softly so he didn’t startle her.   When she didn’t answer, he stepped inside, letting the light from the hallway filter into the room.  "CJ?"  He frowned, struggling to keep the concern from his voice.   She didn’t need his fear.  She needed his strength.

She turned towards him, pulling her attention from the television screen on the far side of her office.  Her hand rubbed absently at the scratch on her neck, her eyes barely focusing on him.  "You’re here late," she said, her voice hoarse.

Her press conference began to replay on the screen, interspersed with footage of the senior staff after the shooting.  It drew her eyes away again, the tendons in her neck tightening.

"So are you," he replied softly, stepping further into the room and shutting the door behind him.  Without the light from the hallway, the room was dim, the flicker of the set in the corner casting eerie shadows.  "You should go home."

"No.  I can’t." She paused, as if suddenly realising they were alone together in a darkened room.  She turned towards him, and the pain in her eyes made his breath catch.  "You shouldn’t be here."

He raised an eyebrow, crossing the room to her desk.  "Where else should I be?"

"If this is about the 25th - " she began.  Her hand dropped to her desk and he saw the scratch on her neck even in the dim light; a red welt against her pale skin.  He resisted the urge to reach out, to clasp her hand.

"I’m not here about the 25th.  And I’m not here about Secret Services protection procedures."   He took a step around her desk, seating himself on its edge, between her and the television.

She tensed, her forehead creasing in frustration.  "For God’s sake, Danny, what is it then?"

This time he did reach out, taking her hand from where it sat on her desk.  He held it between both of his, feeling the strange chill of it between his fingers.  "You shouldn’t be alone." He stopped, worried slightly he’d gone too far.  They walked a fine line - sometimes it was difficult to balance.   "None of you should be alone," he amended quickly.

CJ was looking down at their joined hands, her forehead still creased.  "Danny -"

"Somehow, though," he cut her off, talking rapidly, trying to keep her from sending him away.  "I don’t think Toby would react well to a late night visit."

He sighed with relief when she smiled, lifting her head to look at him. "No, he wouldn’t."

The silence stretched between them, her eyes seeking his in the darkness. Once more he was struck by the pain in them, the fear.  And suddenly, he wasn’t sure he could help; wasn’t sure his presence wouldn’t cause more harm.  "And what about you?"  he asked softly.

She tilted her head, her expression, for a moment, unclear.  Then her fingers entwined with his, gripping his hand tightly.  "I might like the company - off the record."

He grinned, squeezing her hand.  "Off the record," he agreed.  He slid off the edge of her desk, tugging her out of her seat with one hand, while reaching for the TV remote with the other.  Ignoring her protests, he shut off the set, tossing the remote out of reach.  "Sit with me."

"We were sitting."

"You were sitting. I was perching.  Sit with me on the couch."

"Yes, sir." She smiled, allowing him to lead her across her office.  Once there, she took off her shoes, stretching her feet out in front of her.  

"You couldn’t have done that before you stood up.  Make a man feel a little taller?"

"It’s not my job to make you feel like a man, Daniel."

He smiled and clamped his mouth shut, resisting the retort that popped into his mind.  Twelve hours ago, he may have gotten away with it; probably received a smack across the head, but it would have been worth it. The look on her face would have made it so.  But right now, he couldn’t risk her shutting him out.

Sinking down onto the couch next to her, he leaned back against the cushions, tilting his head towards her.  She lay back against the seat, eyes closed, her face almost serene.  She appeared asleep but for one consistent movement: the tracing of the scratch on her neck with two delicate fingers.

"No smart-ass retort?" she asked, not even opening her eyes.

"I’m resisting."  He smiled softly, reaching to take her hand.  She accepted the gesture, letting their hands rest between them on the couch.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"You don’t have to stay."  She turned towards him, shifting her body so that she faced him completely.  "I’m all right here on my own."

He slid a little closer to her, their knees touching.  With his free hand, he brushed hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  "You’re not all right."

"Danny -"

"You’re not all right," he said forcefully. "You’re not fine."  Reaching out, he touched the hand on her neck, gently pulling it away.   He clasped it between both of his, watching as her shock faded into sadness.  "You may have them fooled," he continued, keeping his eyes focused on hers.  "But not me.  Never me."

She looked at him in stunned silence, the vehemence of his voice clearly taking her by surprise.  If it weren’t for the expression on her face, he would have taken her next words as retaliation.  "I’m so scared, Danny."

He fought to keep his expression neutral, to keep the shock of her confession from showing in his features.  He’d known this, he’d seen the panic in her eyes during the briefing, but he’d never imagined she’d say the words.  Releasing her hand, he pulled her into his arms, only to have his breath catch when hers tightened across his back.  He hadn’t anticipated that either. 

"I know you are," he said softly, stroking her back.

She leaned into his shoulder, her hands sliding under his suspenders at the back.  "I have a job to do.  If I can’t do it -"

"You’re doing fine."

CJ pulled away and for a moment, Danny thought she was going to hit him.  "You were there - you think that was fine?"

"It had just happened, CJ.  You have to give yourself time to process."

"I don’t _have_ time, Danny.  Josh is in critical condition, there’s an ongoing manhunt, and you’re harassing me about the 25 th amendment."

Danny frowned, sitting back against the couch cushions and putting distance between himself and CJ.   "Not right now I’m not,"  he said, struggling to keep the anger out of his tone.  They’d danced this dance before, and this time, he wouldn’t let her lead. "I left my notepad at the door. I think you know that."

"Danny -"

He waved her off.  "You need to find the time - if it’s five minutes with Toby in his office, or ten behind the press room with me.  You can’t do this alone."

She didn’t respond right away, her face giving away nothing of her feelings.  Suddenly, she grinned, leaning back into the corner of the couch.  "Ten minutes behind the press room?"  She crossed her legs, her toe accidentally brushing his.

 

"A guy can hope."  He returned her smile, ignoring the shiver her touch had caused.  She continued to smile, a Cheshire cat holding the proverbial canary.

"You know," she began, "your brow crinkles when you worry."

He rolled his eyes, moving to rise from the couch.  If nothing else, he’d improved her mood.  He could only hope he’d gotten through to her.  "CJ -"

"No, it’s cute!"    He gave her a withering look and stood, taking several steps towards the door.  He didn’t hear her rise, but the touch of her hand on his shoulder brought him up short.  He turned, finding himself inches away from her face.  "Thank you," she said quietly.  "I needed a friend tonight."

Danny swallowed, her proximity making it difficult to concentrate.  "You know where to find me."  He grinned, hoping it hid his discomfort.

"Back of the press room."

"Yeah..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

****

**_Press Room - Early Morning (_ ** **post _Lame Duck Congress)_**

She was waiting when he arrived in the press room.  At least, he presumed that that was what was going on.  The room was empty except for the two of them, even the diehards having emptied out hours before.

She sat on the back steps, her head leaning against the wall, her eyes closed.  As he approached, she opened them, turning to gaze up at him.  He couldn’t be sure, but he thought perhaps she’d been crying.

For a moment, he stood staring down at her, unsure what to say.  What could they say to each other, that hadn’t already been said?

"CJ?"

She lowered her head, focussing on her hands where they lay on her lap.  "So," she began, her voice shaky, "there’s this guy."

He blinked, uncertain he’d heard her correctly.   "I’m sorry?"

"There’s this guy."  She looked up, and he wished like hell he could tell what she was thinking.  She seemed uncertain, even frightened.  

"CJ..."

Something in her expression changed.  Her lips curved into a slight smile, her head tilting sideways.  Her eyes sought his, and held them.  "There’s this guy," she repeated, and something in her voice sent a shiver up his spine.  Suddenly, it was all too clear.  

He smiled, taking a few steps further into the room.  "Is there?"

"Yes."  She continued to hold his eyes, her expression bemused.  He’d never live down the slow catch, even if he lived to be 100.

"Is he cute?"  Danny prompted.  She seemed to need the push, her initial courage having faded.

"Maybe a little arrogant."  She smiled, her eyes twinkling.  He couldn’t resist her when they twinkled, but two could play this game.

"You’re avoiding the question."

"I am."

Danny frowned, but only a little.  "So he’s a jackass?"

"He can be."  She paused, her eyes still shining.

"But..."

"He can also be very sweet."

"Sweet?"   He’d never considered himself sweet.  In fact, he wasn’t quite sure that it wasn’t a veiled insult.

"Romantic?"   She raised a questioning eyebrow, seeking approval.  Definitely not an insult then.  

Danny grinned, feeling his face colour.  "So, he’s a romantic jackass."

"Yes."

"And," he paused, hoping his next words weren’t going to far, "you like this guy?"

"He’s also a really good kisser."  She said the words quickly, a slow blush crossing her cheeks at the admission.  She was avoiding the real question, attempting to distract him.  Unfortunately, it was working.

Clearing his throat, he looked down.  "I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing that."

"You think?"

"Yeah."  When he looked up again, she was staring at him, the intensity in her eyes almost knocking the wind out of him.

After a moment, she shook herself, turning her attention back to her hands.  "So...This guy and I - we’ve been dancing around each other."

"Not real dancing?"   The words were out of his mouth before he’d really thought about it, and seeing the look on her face, he almost regretted them.

"No.  I’m not sure he can dance."

"I bet he can," Danny said earnestly.  "I bet he wishes he could dance with you."  

Her smile was sad.  "There’s never been an opportunity."

"And in the future?"  he asked, maybe a little too hopeful.

CJ didn’t speak for a moment, her frown deepening.  "That’s just it...with the dancing-"

"The _other_ dancing?"

"Yeah.  With that."   She raised her eyes, looking out towards the briefing room.   He could hear the murmur of people on the other side of the glass.  Their few minutes of privacy were almost at an end.   When she turned back towards him, her eyes were filled with regret.   "We had a fight."

"These things happen..." He took a step towards her, not sure what to say.  Not sure what she wanted him to say.  They’d had the same argument before, but in the past it had been generalities and vague suggestions.  Today it had been real, and he’d hurt her.

"They do," she agreed.  She turned her body slightly, as though hiding herself from the people in the next room.   Her eyes never left his.  "But I’m worried he doesn’t understand."

"He does."

She hadn’t heard him.  She was speaking too quickly, struggling to get the words out before she changed her mind - or was interrupted.  "I’m worried he doesn’t know how I feel."

"He _knows_."   She heard him this time, falling silent.  He could still hear the press gathering in the other room, their voices getting louder as more  arrived.  Taking a few steps towards her, he smiled, stopping at the edge of the staircase.  He wanted to sit next to her, or even take her hand; but instead, he kept his distance.  "He knows," he repeated, "and he understands."

She smiled sadly. "If things were different..."

"He wishes they could be."

"He seemed angry."

"You expected something of him you wouldn’t do yourself."   He paused, giving his words time to sink in.  CJ nodded, looking down at her hands again. The press forgotten, he knelt beside her, tilting her chin up towards him.  "And maybe, his feelings are so intense, that sometimes he refuses to see the obvious."

She blushed, the expression of his feelings seeming to take her by surprise.  "The obvious?"

"That you can’t choose. And neither can he."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**_A Georgetown Bar, Night (_ ** **post _The Portland Trip)_**

Danny watched the senior staffers from his place at the bar, one hand clenched around his bottle of beer.  He’d been trying to pin down CJ since their return from Portland, but each time he got close to her, someone interrupted.  Usually one of the staffers.  It was as if they were trying to sabotage him, as though what he had to tell her wasn’t hard enough.

"Told her yet?"

Danny sighed, turning to face the invader.  "No."

"You need to tell her."  Josh took a seat on the stool next to him, taking a pull from his bottle.  "You know what it’s gonna do to her."

"I know."  He turned away, not wanting to meet Josh’s eyes.  It had been difficult enough making the confession this morning, watching Josh’s eyes get wider and wider as he explained the situation.  "That’s why I’m here."

"But you’re not over there."  Josh gestured towards the table in the corner, and Danny’s eyes followed, falling on CJ.   She laughed, and Danny’s breath caught.

 "I can’t do it."

"You have to."  Josh rose, punching Danny in the shoulder.  "Come on.  First step is the hardest." 

Danny shadowed Josh across the bar, feeling his pulse quicken as they approached the table.  He hadn’t wanted to do it this way.  He hadn’t wanted an audience, and he was damn sure what he had here was an audience.

One by one the staffers raised their eyes, regarding him with a mixture of shock and amusement.  CJ’s were the last set to rise from the table, and the most shocked.  She choked on her drink.

"Danny?!"  She coughed, struggling to speak.  Toby patting her feebly on the back, an ironic grin on his face.  "Why....?"

"It is a public place, Claudia Jean."  Toby said, deadpan.  A lesser man would have withered under her gaze.  Toby’s smile just widened.

With a final pat on the shoulder, Josh took his seat, shaking his head at Donna as she moved to pull up another chair.   She frowned slightly, but sat back in her seat, eyeing Danny askance.

"CJ."   Danny paused, feeling five sets of eyes bore into him. Toby actually chuckled.   "Can we talk - privately?"

CJ rose with far more dignity than she probably felt, glaring towards Toby as she did so.  As she circled the table towards him, Danny felt as though a cold wind had blown through the bar, her icy glare catching him off-guard.  He saw Josh frown, staring at his beer bottle as though it were the Holy Grail.  Danny wished he could fall into a hole and die.  

"There’s a table in the corner," she said tersely, leading him back across the bar.  She took a seat facing the wall, and he couldn’t blame her; how else to avoid their relentless stares?

He took the seat opposite her, sparing one final glance towards her colleagues.  Silence had descended on the table, Josh only slightly more animated as he spoke to the group.  In as much time as it had taken them to cross the room, Toby’s good-natured smirk had turned into a judgemental frown; a glare that pierced Danny almost as much as CJ’s own.  But it was Donna’s face that made a lump form in his throat.  It looked as though she might cry.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

CJ’s voice cut through his stupor, the expression on her face when he turned towards her actually making him flinch.  "CJ."

"Not only the senior staff, Daniel, but a public place!"

Danny took a deep breath, not knowing how to calm her anger.  "I didn’t want it to be this way," he said quietly.  "I tried this afternoon."

She sighed, and he could tell she was willing herself not to glance towards her friends. When she spoke, her voice was calmer, although just as icy. "There are other ways, Danny.  Other methods.  Better ones.  Tomorrow -"

"Not for this."   Something in his voice must have touched her, because she stayed silent, letting him continue. "You need to hear this from me.  Tomorrow you might have heard it from someone else."

"What’s wrong?"   She studied him across the table, her gaze softening now as well.   She was concerned for him.  How painfully ironic.

"I’m leaving the White House."  The words came quickly, and he regretted his phrasing as soon as they left his mouth.  Her eyebrow quirked, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes.

"You’re what?"

"I’m leaving the White House," he repeated.  "I’m going to travel a bit.  Work on something a little different."

For a moment, there was silence.   Danny took a breath, watching her carefully.  Her face was almost unreadable, but he saw the hope in her eyes fade.  His heart in his throat, he waited for the questions he knew were coming.  It didn’t take long.

"You’re leaving the White House?"

"Yes."

She wasn’t meeting his eyes.  Her gaze was fixed on the table between them.  "And you’re going to travel?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I’m sorry?"

She looked up, and when she spoke, her tone was icy again.  "Where are you going to travel?"

"I’m not sure yet.  Africa, maybe."

"You’re not sure."

"No."

"You’re a White House reporter."

There it was.  The reaction he’d anticipated, and the one thing he didn’t have an answer for, at least not one that would be acceptable to her.  

She took his silence as confusion.  "You told me.  You said _‘I’m a White House reporter.’_ It’s why you didn’t take the editor’s job."

"CJ."

"No.  It’s what you said."

"It’s what I said."

She looked up, and the look in her eyes pained him.  It damned near killed him.  "So you’re leaving."

"Yeah.  For a while."  He paused, trying to reconcile himself to what was in her eyes.  "I’ll still be doing some White House work, just...not in the White House."

"Why?"

"I’m a White House reporter."  He smiled, but she didn’t respond.

"No. Why are you leaving? Why now?"

"Why not?"  He met her gaze fiercely, the vehemence of his tone catching him by surprise.  He hadn’t realised he was angry.  In all of this, he’d only thought of her.   "We dance around each other CJ, and it’s all we can do.  We can’t move forward - neither of us want to move back.  Maybe a little distance between us..."

She looked down again, closing her eyes.  "I’m sorry, Danny."

He took her hand, smiling when it tightened on his. "It’s not you," he said softly.  "But I can’t do this."

CJ nodded, lifting her eyes to meet his. "How long have you known?"

"I got the call in Portland.  I leave at the end of the week."

"So soon?"  She looked hurt, but not surprised.

"It’s better this way."

She nodded again, then turned to glance back at the senior staff.  They were all finding the top of the table extremely interesting.  "How long have they known?"

"Except for Josh, about five minutes longer than you.  Leo knows though; he had to know."  He paused, bowing his head.  "I didn’t want you to hear from anyone else."

"Danny?"  One hand brushed along his face, the other tugging him from his chair. He looked up, and saw she was smiling.  It was as though a weight lifted from his shoulders.   "Dance with me."

"What about-"  He nodded towards the senior staff, who were no longer bothering to hide their interest.

"I don’t care."

Danny smiled, allowing her to pull him from his chair and towards the dance floor.  She led him to the most crowded part, well out of view of her colleagues.

"You do care." He grinned and chuckled lightly when she slapped his arm.

"Shut up."

His smile widened, and hers followed, her hand squeezing his as he pulled her close.  "I’ve wanted to do this for a long time," he said, feeling her cheek come to rest against his.

"You have?"

He nodded, although she couldn’t see it, and tightened his arm across her back.  He was surprised by her heat, and the way her chest rose and fell against his as he held her.  It was new, and almost overwhelming.

"Every black tie dinner; every night out like this one."

"Danny-"  Her voice was soft in his ear, her hands clenched in the material of his shirt.  "Are you sure?"

For about a second, he thought she meant the dancing.  And it was her voice, more than anything, that changed his mind.  There was an ache in it, one that mirrored what he’d been fighting since he’d gotten the call in Portland.  No,  he wasn’t sure.  And right now, holding her, he was tempted to change his mind.

"Yeah, CJ," he replied instead, tangling a hand in her hair.  It was a necessary lie, and one he hoped she’d believe.  "I’m sure."

They were silent for a moment, the music fading into emptiness before the next song began. Then, once again, her voice gave her away.  "I’m going to miss you, Daniel."

She didn’t believe him.

_END._


End file.
